Gift of pomegranates
The North Star is gone
I recall that and stories
“Once upon a time …”
And I can clearly see a
Constellation and stars
The artist’s brush, sky
Canvas and shadow of
Mountains, easel’s legs
Brush of comets, runs,
But they are all gone
I am grown, no goats
The men on the roofs
Cat cradle colors hang
Woolen threads, warp
In no time the greatest
Esfahan’s hand carpets
In my dream I wake up
Rows of pomegranates
Green in full, pink smile
With teeth shiny, bright
These memories, truths
Are for you my teachers
Ezra Pound, Nima Yush
Please forgive if not good
Please forgive if not good
Please forgive if not good
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem